War Games
by Delta-6
Summary: A marine is murdered at Waverly University and the team investigate. My attempt to get as close as possible to an actual episode. Spoilers for Conspiracy Theory and Red Cell. I don't own a darn thing of NCIS except some DVDs.


Authors note: Special thanks to Cable Addict and ME Wofford for their wonderful assistance and encouragement through the very long writing of this story. This is the first story I started writing but the second I have posted, the other one, Break Left, was tiny.

Set after Season 4 Ep 10 Smoked. Spoilers for Conspiracy Theory and Red Cell.

**War Games**

**Prologue**

Eighteen paratroopers stood in the cargo hold of the C-17 Globemaster cargo plane. It was 0330, otherwise known to the troops as Oh-Dark-Hundred and their commander, call sign Delta 6, was briefing them over the radio. "First squad, take the left flank, Second squad, you've got the right. Once you are in place, lay down cover fire and I'll come through the middle with Third. Watch your fire, I don't want any blue on blue. We'll clean out the defences then proceed to the objective, HUA?" he asked, making the acronym for heard, understood, acknowledged sound like 'hoo-ah.' "HOO-AH!" his pumped up troops chorused back.

A minute later, as the troops descended beneath their parachutes, tracers began to zip by them. Troops called out "MEDIC!" over the radio as they were hit. "Damn! Take cover as soon as you hit the ground!" Delta 6 called. When the troops had all landed he called for a casualty report. Six troops were down, almost before the mission had started. The commander reformed his men, making even teams, then ordered, "the plan remains the same, move out!"

Five minutes later, the attack went in. It was a disaster. The twelve defenders, dug in to a trench system with two wooden bunkers, were all armed with RPK light machine guns. They made short work of the attack, shredding the flanking parties without loss. Then they turned their combined fire on the assault team. When all the attackers lay dead, the enemy commander transmitted a message to the commander of the paratroops.

"Too easy, want to actually try next time?"

Staring at the message on the computer screen, still pissed at losing his entire team, Dean Toomey, also known as Major Delta 6, leader of the Urban Rangers clan, shouted in frustration, "Damn you MarineGunner, I'm going to get you if it's the last thing I do!"

**NCIS**

DiNozzo, Ziva and McGee came out of the elevator, having been summoned by an early morning call from Gibbs that had been short but hardly sweet – "The office, 0600," was all he had growled down the line. By a fluke, Ziva and Tony had arrived at the entry to the car park at exactly the same time and McGee, who had arrived a minute before, had held the elevator for them.

"This had _better_ not be an emergency assembly drill," DiNozzo groaned as McGee yawned. As they entered the bullpen Gibbs got to his feet behind his desk.

"Grab your gear. McGee, gas the truck," he called, throwing him the keys.

"What do we got boss?" asked DiNozzo as he tucked his holster into his belt.

"A dead marine on the campus of Waverly University."

"All RIGHT!" DiNozzo grinned wolfishly as Ziva and McGee shared an "oh great" look on the way to the elevator.

"One word about spring break, DiNozzo . . ." Gibbs threatened.

"Got it boss."

* * *

At the scene, Gibbs walked towards the police as the team grabbed the gear from the truck.

"McGee tells me you've worked here before, yes?" inquired Ziva.

"Oh yeah, three years ago." Tony grinned at the pretty co-eds passing by. "The girls sure haven't changed much. Anyway, a marine was found during Hell Week, then a petty officer, both murdered by their NROTC Gunny. What was his name? Uhhhh, Leeka, Gunny Paul Leeka, that's it," he explained as McGee closed the truck and they began to walk on the grassy field towards the crime scene. "He was forcing a female midshipman to have sex with him, she went to the marine and petty officer, they confronted him, he snapped their necks."

"Nice." Ziva observed. "He go down hard?" Tony chuckled.

"Sure, after he tried to kill Gibbs with his bare hands. Me and Kate, we . . ." he trailed off as the smile left his face.

"You and Kate what?" Ziva pursued. Tony just gave her his best Gibbs glare impression and strode off faster after Gibbs, leaving Ziva and McGee behind.

"Still a soft spot?" she asked McGee.

"I think you mean sore spot, but it's about the same. That wasn't long before we lost her." he replied.

* * *

Gibbs walked up to the local cop who seemed to be in charge. "Gibbs, NCIS," he said, flashing his ID. "What do we know?"

"Jacobs. We got reports of gunfire at 0530 this morning, sent a squad car to check it out; they were flagged down by a co-ed raving about a body, checked it out, then his ROTC Gunny ran up and made the ID. So we called you."

"You move the body?" Jacobs' eyes narrowed

"Gibbs, until the ID was made this was my crime scene." Gibbs just glared. "No, Garcia was lying on his back, we didn't need to move him. I'll leave him to you now."

* * *

"DiNozzo, sketch and shoot. McGee, bag and tag. Ziva, witnesses," Gibbs ordered as they approached the crime scene. Tony noticed how cute the female witness was.

"Boss, you sure you don't want me to take witness statements? You know Ziva can be a little . . ." DiNozzo trailed off as Gibbs glared at him. "On it boss!"

Gibbs walked over to where Ducky was finishing his initial examination. Garcia lay on his back, staring sightlessly at the sky. "What do we have Duck?"

"Shot in the chest and the head, Jethro, full metal jackets most likely. The two chest shots don't have exit wounds but the head does, as you see," he gestured.

"Time of death?"

"Approximately ninety minutes ago, as usual I'll have more for you when we get him home. Which, presumably, will be after whenever Mr. Palmer gets here with the gurney."

"Boss, over here," called McGee. "3 shell casings, look like M16 rounds," he said as Gibbs approached. DiNozzo came and took photos of the brass casings after putting down marker numbers next to them. McGee bagged the casings.

"DiNozzo."

"Yeah boss?"

"Line of fire that way," he said, pointing to a nearby building past the body, "Go find me the bullets to go with these casings. Take McGee with you."

"On it boss," they chorused. Gibbs started walking towards the truck, where Ziva was interviewing the witness. He paused as he noticed a gleam in Ducky's eye.

"Problem, Dr. Mallard?"

"Shame on you Jethro, sending them to find three bullets when we only found one exit wound on the body."

"Just trying to keep 'em sharp Duck." The M.E. chuckled.

"Yes, being sent on fools errands soon tends to sharpen the wit."

* * *

"Tony, there's something I've been meaning to ask you." McGee said as they searched.

"No I won't marry you probie." he quipped, smiling as McGee blushed. "What's on your mind?"

"Remember the case with the mental patients, just before we came here last time?"

"How could I forget?" Tony groaned. "That redhead was all over me. What about it?"

"What was going on with you and Kate?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, uh, it looked like you had something on your PDA, something she didn't want anyone to see and, uh . . ." McGee broke off as Tony rounded on him, glaring menacingly.

"That was between me and Kate, probie, nothing that concerns you."

"But . . ."

"But nothing probie, now get back to work. We've got bullets to find."

* * *

Back in the bullpen, the dead marine's file was displayed on the plasma. "Sergeant Anthony Garcia," Tony declared. "26, single, armourer, one tour in Afghanistan, one in Iraq, assigned to the Quantico armoury 8 months ago on return from Iraq, detached 2 months ago to study criminology, of all things, at Waverly U."

"His NROTC commanding officer said he wanted to join the military police when he became an officer," Ziva offered.

"Nice career move," Gibbs observed. "What else?"

"The Gunnery Sergeant said the gunfire sounded like an M16 on semi-auto. He was out on his morning run, about half a mile away, he said, when he heard it."

"And he ran to the sound of the guns?" asked DiNozzo.

"His words exactly, Tony, how did you know?" she marvelled.

"Marine tradition Ziva," Gibbs interjected before Tony could reply, "the Navy steers for the sound of the guns, Marines run for the sound. Anything more that actually relates to the case?" he inquired acidly.

"The girl who found the body was returning to her dorm. She mentioned hearing a car door close and a car drive off."

"How long after the shots?"

"A minute or two."

"Just looove her accuracy," Gibbs breathed between sips of his fourth coffee of the day.

"Found one bullet boss, the other two are probably still in his chest, no marks or holes anywhere else behind Garcia," said DiNozzo. "Nothing hinky in his room. It reminded me of McGee's place. You know, books, computer gear, sci-fi posters," he added, chuckling until Gibbs headslapped him. "We brought his laptop back, Abby and McGee are working on it now."

"Keep checking his file," Gibbs ordered on his way to the elevator.

"What exactly are we looking for, I wonder?" asked Ziva when the elevator doors had closed.

"Gee, I don't know Ziva, maybe a reason to kill him?" DiNozzo suggested.

* * *

"What have you got for me Ducky?" asked Gibbs as he entered autopsy. Garcia's body lay on the table nearest the x-ray display screens.

"Ah, Jethro, I was just about to call you. Our sergeant was killed with a remarkable degree of skill. As I said at the scene, two chest shots and a head shot." Ducky advised, finishing the stitching of the autopsy incisions.

"Two in the chest, one in the head, always leaves the target dead." Gibbs mused.

"Quite. However, look closely." Ducky handed a magnifying glass to Gibbs. "See how close the chest shots are to one another?" The holes were less than a quarter of an inch apart.

"Yeah, it's a tight group, right through the heart."

"Exactly. Both shots went straight through the heart and lodged in his spine."

"Any gunshot residue or burns on the sergeant's clothes?"

"Not that I could see. They were sent to Abigail to make sure. Now look at the head shot. Note it's rather impressive accuracy."

"Right between the eyebrows."

"Yes, and with the killer over six feet away and with the body already falling from the chest shots, either the killer was very lucky . . ."

"Or he is an expert marksman," Gibbs completed.

"Precisely. I just sent the bullets up to Abigail for analysis."

"Thanks Duck."

* * *

"Oh come on!" called Abby as Gibbs walked into her lab. "You've gotta give me something to give to Gibbs when he gets here!"

"Who does Abs?" Gibbs asked, right behind her.

"AUGH! Too late!" she yelled as she whirled around. "The FBI's DrugFire database! It's taking much too long to run the bullets from Sergeant Garcia."

"Well, what _do _you have for me?"

"The bullets are definitely from an M16."

"Is that all, Abby?"

"Gibbs, I'm crushed," whined Abby as she walked into her office with Gibbs in tow. "Tell him whatcha got Tim."

"Boss, I found threatening emails and instant messaging logs on Sergeant Garcia's laptop, he was being threatened by a 'Major Delta 6,' obviously an alias."

"Ya think, McGee? What kind of threats?"

"Uh, Delta 6 is saying that Garcia is going to die next time they meet, that he will prove himself superior to Garcia, that Garcia is toast . . ."

"I get the idea McGee. Got an address and a real name for 'Delta 6' yet?"

"Here boss. Dean Toomey, 116 G Street. There's one thing about these logs though." Gibbs looked at him, his expression saying 'and that is?' "In the IM logs 'Major Delta 6' is preceded by UR and Garcia's handle – his online name, boss - is 'MarineGunner'. That's not his rank, of course, so I checked his other logs and he conversed with a 'MarineShooter,' 'MarineWarrior' and a 'MarineSniper,' among others."

"The point, McGee?" Gibbs said testily.

"Uh, I think Garcia was in a war-game clan and maybe 'Major Delta 6' is an opponent."

"Well why don't you ask Toomey when you and DiNozzo pick him up?" suggested Gibbs as he walked out of the lab. "Let me know as soon as you have something Abs."

* * *

Dean Toomey sat in Interrogation Room one. 5'11" and 225 pounds, he was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with "All your base are belong to us."

"What is with that t-shirt?" Tony asked in the observation room.

"It's a quote from a really old computer game Tony," McGee explained, "It was poorly translated from Japanese." Tony shook his head sadly.

"Five bucks says Gibbs gets a confession in five minutes," he challenged.

"Tony, why do you continue to bet on the results of Gibbs' interrogations when you always lose?" countered Ziva.

"I do not always lose."

"No?"

"Remember that time when – here we go," Tony cut himself off as the interrogation room door opened.

* * *

"Why am I here?" demanded Toomey, jumping to his feet as Gibbs walked into the interrogation room.

"Sit down and I'll consider telling you." When Toomey had taken his seat Gibbs laid Garcia's file photo on the table.

"Who's he?" asked Toomey.

"Sergeant Anthony Garcia, a marine." Gibbs laid a photo of Garcia taken at the crime scene next to the file photo.

"Man, you should warn someone when you're going to show them something like that," complained Toomey, recoiling in disgust.

"He was shot with an M16 this morning."

"What's this got to do with me? I didn't know him."

"Yeah, actually, you did. You knew him as MarineGunner."

"That's MarineGunner? And he's dead?" asked Toomey incredulously, looking at the photos. Then he looked at Gibbs in horror. "You think I did this?"

"Did you?"

"No way man! I never even met him!" Sweat began to bead on his forehead.

"You sounded pretty pissed with him in your emails."

"You would too if he and his team constantly pounded the crap out of you."

"I thought you said you never met him."

"Online, man, America's Army, the computer game, you know?" Gibbs' 'interrogation face' was his only reply. "Every time my clan fought his, they wiped the floor with us," Toomey said angrily.

"So you blew him away just to win the game."

"NO! I told you! I never met him!" shouted Toomey, slapping his hands on the table and standing up.

"_Sit down_," growled Gibbs, glaring at him. Toomey obeyed.

"Ok, so I sent him some dumb emails, I was just talking about in the game, he understood, check the emails he sent me!" Gibbs turned and looked at the mirror.

* * *

"Probie, I think this one falls on you," advised Tony. McGee nodded and headed for the door, on his way to Abby's lab.

* * *

"Where did you learn to shoot the M16?" queried Gibbs.

"I've never fired a real one," Toomey squirmed, "but I probably could, based on the game." Gibbs raised an eyebrow questioningly. "To get to real missions you have to pass basic training which includes marksmanship training. Then you can go on to sniper training if you qualify expert, which I did," concluded Toomey smugly.

* * *

"Marksmanship training, sniper training, what is this game, a one stop shop for terrorists?" wondered Tony.

"There is nothing in it that terrorists do not already know Tony," answered Ziva, smiling. "Besides . . ."

* * *

"There is a very big difference between a computer game and real life." Gibbs growled.

"Then I guess you just proved I didn't kill MarineGunner."

"You could be lying."

"Do you think I am?" Toomey asked.

* * *

"I believe him," stated Ziva flatly. Tony opened his mouth to reply but stopped when

Abby burst into the observation room.

"I need to talk to talk to Gibbs, now!" she called out breathlessly.

"Settle down Abs," replied DiNozzo, "what's the rush?"

"Toomey is innocent! He didn't do it at all!"

"How'd you figure that Abs? You found the emails, the logs, the . . ."

"We just found a hidden partition on Garcia's hard drive," interrupted McGee, even more breathless than Abby, finally entering the room in her wake.

"Nice of you to join us probie, even if you found a hidden thingy on his computer, how does it prove Toomey isn't the killer?"

"It doesn't," Abby shot in, "but I finally got the results from the DrugFire database and I got a hit on a drug related killing 2 years ago!"

"And?" DiNozzo raised his eyebrow.

"And, the data on the hidden partition is information about a gang involved in drug and weapon running that Garcia had been approached by 6 months ago trying to buy weapons. He was stringing them along, building a file on them. I guess he didn't tell them he wasn't in the armoury anymore. There's also a photo you might be interested in." McGee announced handing over a copy.

"Hey that's . . ."

"One and the same Tony."

"Gibbs is going to love you," Tony said sarcastically. "You wanna go get him out of there?"

"Tony, you know what happened last time."

"You mean the first, last and only time you did that? Good work probie, we might make an agent of you yet. Rule 22:"

"Never, ever bother Gibbs in interrogation," Ziva completed for him. "Agent Gibbs, a word please?" she called over the intercom.

* * *

"_**WHAT?**_" barked Gibbs in annoyance as he entered the observation room.

* * *

"Rafael Gutierrez, suspected of importing cocaine and exporting weapons through Mexico," announced McGee in the bullpen. "Never tied directly to anything, lets his henchmen take the fall. It appears someone from his organization approached Sergeant Garcia 6 months ago to buy weapons from him. The Sergeant began to gather information on the group, probably to give to us. Looks like they lost patience with him"

"Ya think, McGee? What else?" Gibbs asked.

"We found this photo of the man Garcia was approached by. Former Gunnery Sergeant . . ."

"Paul Leeka," Gibbs finished. "It has been a while."

"He escaped 5 months ago, now it appears he is a bodyguard for Gutierrez."

"McGee, bring his SRB up on the plasma. There," Gibbs pointed at the file on display, "He qualified expert with the M16. He's our murderer, again."

"So what this means," Ziva said, smirking at Tony, "is that we have been barking up the wrong bush – again." Tony grinned at the insider joke, his smile quickly changing to a grimace as Gibbs headslapped him and Ziva at the same time.

"Play time later you two, back to work, now," he growled, "McGee, got an address for Gutierrez?"

"Here boss"

"Good work McGee, everyone, gear up, vests included." Tony and Ziva shared a look. They knew that in a firefight with automatic weapons, their vests would only protect them so far. "McGee! Call Fornell, tell him I need the Hostage Rescue Team and I need it now."

"On it boss!"

"Uh, boss? What about Toomey?" Tony queried.

"Leave him there until we check this out," Gibbs ordered.

* * *

"What sort of drug runner works from home?" wondered McGee as they arrived at the address.

"One who is either very smart or incredibly stupid," Ziva advised. Tony grinned.

"Enemy of the State, Gene Hackman, Will Smi – OW!" he groaned as Gibbs headslapped him.

"Movie references later DiNozzo, mind on the job!" Gibbs growled. "Hostage rescue will cover the back, we're going in through the front." He turned his gaze on the house. It was a large, two-story house, Tudor style to outside appearances and according to the blueprints McGee had hacked into there were six rooms upstairs and seven downstairs including the big open plan living room and kitchen.

"Ziva, you're with me, we'll take upstairs. DiNozzo, McGee, clear downstairs."

"Federal agents!" bellowed Gibbs as he kicked the door in, entering with his gun leading the way.

Gunfire greeted Gibbs as he entered the house, pistol bullets thudding into the wall around the door. He returned fire, dashing to a waist high wall nearby for cover. A scream of agony told him he had hit one of his opponents. He stuck his head up as Ziva entered the house shooting and counted two bad guys in the kitchen and one near the back door as they ducked frantically to avoid Ziva's accurate fire. She slipped behind a pillar at the end of the low wall and reloaded her pistol as Gibbs rose behind the wall to give cover fire for Tony and Tim to enter. He signalled to them to flank left as he and Ziva went right. When they got close enough, Gibbs threw a stun grenade, borrowed from the Hostage Rescue Team, into the kitchen. As soon as it detonated, he and Ziva moved into the kitchen and cuffed the two bad guys, still twitching from having their senses overloaded by the stun grenade. The sound of the back door opening told him what the third bad guy was doing and he was content to let the HRT take care of him.

"Tony, McGee, take the corridor down there, we're going upstairs," he ordered.

Tony nodded and motioned to McGee. They cleared the first two rooms, seeing three single beds in each. They got to the third door, on the right of the corridor and Tony got into position, aiming his pistol to clear the room as soon as the door was open. Tim, to the side of the door, put his hand on the doorknob and at Tony's nod twisted and pushed. Tony had a fleeting glimpse of a man with a shotgun before _**BOOM! **_he found himself on his back, winded. 'What the hell was that, a cannon?' he wondered. Then panic kicked in when he found he couldn't breathe. "Tony!" McGee cried out, hearing the awful shuck-shuck sound of the shotgun being reloaded. He swung into the room and killed the shooter, then made sure the room was clear. As he turned back to Tony he heard doors opening down the hall and dragged Tony into the room for cover. 'Damn it Tony, don't you dare be dead, who's gonna call me Probie and play pranks on me if you're gone?' he thought. Aloud he said, "Tony?"

"I'm ok," Tony managed to gasp, "just got the wind knocked out of me." He coughed. McGee's face turned from worry to relief to rage.

"**YOOOUUUUU BAAAAAAASTARRRRRRRDS!**"he screamed, storming out of the room. The 2 remaining bad guys were astonished at the sight of the agent storming down the corridor at them, the last sight they ever saw. McGee was unstoppable, a force of nature. He expertly shot both of them in the head and cleared the remaining rooms before running back to Tony. Tim found him sitting up, still gasping for air.

"You ok?" Tim asked, the concern in his voice matching that written all over his face.

"I'll be better," Tony wheezed, "when I can get some _wheeze_ air in my lungs and _wheeze_ keep it there." McGee reached into his jacket and brought out a Ventolin puffer, offering it to Tony. Tony used it and then looked questioningly at McGee.

"Thanks Probie, didn't _wheeze_ know you had asthma."

"I don't but Sarah does and I always carried one as a kid, in case she forgot hers and needed one in a hurry. Got into the habit of always having one handy, you never know when you might need to help a plague survivor get his breath back."

At that point Gibbs and Ziva came downstairs.

"Upstairs is clear, suspect is down," he said.

"Clear down here boss," Tony reported, still sitting on the floor.

"Sitting down on the job Tony?" teased Ziva.

"Still a bit winded from being hit by a solid shotgun slug thanks Zee-Vah," he shot back, drawing out her name. He breathed in, still wheezing a bit. "McGee here went and did an Oscar Wallace after I got hit." Tim frowned, confused, but surprise showed on Ziva's face.

"Really? _You_ went on a rampage McGee?" she queried.

"Uh, I guess you could call it that," he replied. "It looks like a major drug lab down there," he reported. Gibbs walked down the hall and noted the two dead bad guys, both shot twice in the head. He looked in the rooms, confirming McGee's report before rejoining his agents.

Ziva helped Tony back to his feet. The question was written all over his face.

"Tony, in Mossad we watched The Untouchables for light relief."

* * *

When they arrived back at headquarters, Gibbs called McGee into his conference room. He flipped the emergency break on and turned to the younger agent.

"Take me through what happened McGee."

"Well, we went room by room, got to the third one, I opened it and the next thing I know Tony's on the ground. I heard the guy pumping the action so I swung in and shot him, then I heard doors opening down the hall. I pulled Tony into cover and I guess I just got mad."

"Why?"

"I was worried for Tony. I don't want to know what it'd be like without him."

Gibbs nodded and gave Tim a soft headslap before re-activating the elevator.

"Next time, try not to get angry."

* * *

Later that evening, Tony sat at his desk, finishing his report. As usual, to do his best work, he had waited until everyone else had left. He glanced around, making sure no one was behind him and pulled out his PDA. He brought up Kate's wet t-shirt picture and stared at it wistfully.

"I miss you Kate," he breathed.

"Me too Tony," said Gibbs, right behind him. Tony jumped. Then he cringed, remembering what Abby had done with his photo for Kate to get back at him.

"Boss, do you still have that . . ." he couldn't say it. He didn't have to.

"Well yeah DiNozzo, ya think I'd get rid of some of Abby's finest work?" Gibbs asked, smiling at Tony's worried expression.


End file.
